


The Buffet

by WifeTadashi



Series: Yamaguchi's Vore Adventures [3]
Category: Haikyuu!!, vore - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Reality, Cock Transformation, Cooking, Dehumanization, Digestion, Food Play, Immobility, Inanimate Transformation, M/M, Macro/Micro, Reality Shift, Soul Entrapment, Soul Persists After Death, Vore, food transformation, nonsensical, painless
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-25
Updated: 2019-11-25
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:48:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21564028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WifeTadashi/pseuds/WifeTadashi
Summary: It occurs to Tadashi, as he wakes, that he is underwater. It further occurs, as he flails wildly in panic, that where his legs should be is a fish tail. Finally, it occurs that he is not wanting for air, that there are dozens of other mermaids around him, that each of them look exactly like him, and that they are all just as panicked.This is a dream, he realizes, pressing that assurance down on his dread. He holds onto that idea even as he comes to notice that, rather than an open body of water, he and… his selves, he supposes, are in a tank. A tank in a restaurant, it would seem, and though most of his fellows were of varying sizes, none were as large as a human. Ignoring the anxiety gnawing at him, he swims along the walls of the tank, observing what seems to be… a buffet.
Relationships: Kuroo Tetsurou/Yamaguchi Tadashi, Yamaguchi Tadashi/Everyone
Series: Yamaguchi's Vore Adventures [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1344187
Comments: 12
Kudos: 26





	The Buffet

**Author's Note:**

> This is, in fact, a serious fic. I don't know why you would click if you don't like vore. You know you're responsible for your own online experience, right? No one made you come here.
> 
> For those of you here of genuine interest... I hope you enjoy it as much as the patrons of this fine establishment enjoy their meals.

It occurs to Tadashi, as he wakes, that he is underwater. It further occurs, as he flails wildly in panic, that where his legs should be is a fish tail. Finally, it occurs that he is not wanting for air, that there are dozens of other mermaids around him, that each of them look exactly like him, and that they are all just as panicked.

This is a dream, he realizes, pressing that assurance down on his dread. He holds onto that idea even as he comes to notice that, rather than an open body of water, he and… his selves, he supposes, are in a tank. A tank in a restaurant, it would seem, and though most of his fellows were of varying sizes, none were as large as a human. Ignoring the anxiety gnawing at him, he swims along the walls of the tank, observing what seems to be… a buffet.

As he presses against the glass, he sees tables of food, and people milling about them. He scans the crowds, the tables… and sees his own face, in a cartoonish, chibi mascot style, on a board proudly declaring that all their food, even the inanimate items, are 100% still-living 'Yama-Yums'.

And as his mind, frozen by cold fear, struggles to process this, a hand surges down to close around one of his other selves, quickly receding back above the water as the fish boy struggled. Even as he breached the water, the fish, identical to Tadashi himself, squirmed, frantic, even biting the fingers, to no avail.

Tadashi watched mutely, mind blanking of any thoughts or feelings, as the man holding his other self—a middle-aged salaryman, sleeves rolled up, tie loose, a bottle of beer in his other hand—brought the boy up to his head, parted his lips, and dropped him into his mouth carelessly, the mer's tail slapping wetly against his cheek as he tried to keep himself from slipping further into the maw… only for the man to throw his head back, slurp the tail in, and swallow, smiling. The lump on the way down is visible. He chases the morsel with several chugs of beer, exhaling a contented sigh as soon as the bottle's rim leaves his lips.

As he leaves, apparently having had his fill before finishing with a fishy treat, he has his hand on his belly, rubbing. Feeling squirms. Still smiling blissfully.

Tadashi's eyes don't leave him until he's completely out of sight.

When he is, all of the horror he couldn't process as it happened hits him like a train. 

He'd scream, but he finds he can't will even the smallest of sounds from his throat.

As he tries to think over the pounding of his heart, tries to get ahold of himself, to focus enough to find some place to hide, another hand claims someone, this one belonging to an old man whose face in any other situation could be called kindly. He places his prey gently in a small bowl, lidding it before passing it on to what looks like a staff member. As they exchange words, Tadashi finds it hard to look away, even as he flits around the tank, searching desperately for a hiding spot that isn't taken. 

Bemoaning that the pebbles lining the floor aren't deep enough to shroud him, he watches as the elderly man moves to wait patiently by the bar, drinking sake as the staff member forces an eyedropper into the other Yamaguchi's mouth (Tadashi notes that a sign above the tank advertises him and his kind as "MerYama"), squeezing a single drop of something directly into his throat. The MerYama goes limp. Not in merciful death, but his tail and arms simply hang loose, even as his eyes dart about and his head turns every which way, as if there's a solution that can save him that he simply hadn't noticed yet. 

He's helpless as the chef binds his useless limbs to him with seaweed and stuffs his mouth with as much rice as it will hold (Tadashi suspects it's to prevent biting), placing him on a small wooden plate, alongside pieces of more mundane sushi (though, if the sign from before is to be believed, those are also "Yama-Yums", still living, still perceiving, still feeling).

The thought clings to Tadashi as he watches the MerYama spread be served to the man, who, after giving his thanks, takes his chopsticks, picking up a piece of sushi, somehow even more helpless than the paralyzed MerYama at it's side. It's laid in his mouth almost gently. 

Tadashi goes numb when he starts to chew.

The MerYama is saved for last. Though larger than the sushi, the old man has no trouble, nor do the chopsticks, in lifting the mer. Where the salaryman had wharfed his snack down, this man seems to want to savor his catch, simply wrapping his lips around him. Tadashi braces for chewing, begging himself to close his eyes, but to his relief, his fear is unwarranted, the man simply suckling at the boy's head, gradually pulling more of him, as if to enjoy the mer's flavor. Relief flakes away, as he realizes chewing would've been a far quicker end than digestion.

When he finally has the entire mer behind his lips, his smile doesn't look cruel or sadistic; it's right in place on that kindly looking face, just a happy old man enjoying a normal meal.

He pats his stomach briefly, gently, after he's sealed Tadashi's counterpart inside. He takes the occasion to down some medication to aid in digestion, and a stool hardener, and leaves after giving his thanks to the staff that helped him. 

And Tadashi us left feeling numb as he goes, having realized there's nowhere in the tank completely out of sight from the humans that have decided he's food. 

There are, he learns, tiny human versions of him as well. The restaurant's clientele are no less enthusiastic to eat them. There are even versions of him that are half-sized, though costly, that leave patrons nursing swollen, squirming stomachs. And if the signs are to be believed, sometimes they'll even auction off a 'full-sized Yama-Yum' at exorbitant prices. Some customers seem just as appalled, but Tadashi is not so hopeful as to believe they're horrified by the concept of consuming something—someone—indistinguishable from another human being. Instead, they're probably gaping at the amount even just the starting bid is.

He comes to find, too, the process by which an inanimate piece of food could be alive when he watches a staff, having seen an empty platter, methodically prick a number of 'MiniYamas' from a jar with a needle, dipping the tip in a small vial between each, setting his victims down on the platter, unconcerned with their attempts at escape. Each MiniYama would make a break for the edge, cut short when they begin to bloat. Their limbs seem to meld to their bodies as they grow squat, fluffing up as their heads are swallowed by their cake bodies. Moments later, frosting would start pushing up, cupcakes completing themselves as onlookers oh and ah, lining up to try one for themselves. Occupied, none witness the employee walk off with one last MiniYama in his hand, steadily being replaced by a cupcake, all to himself.

By the bar, paralyzed versions of himself, of both the mer and human variety, smaller than usual, are used as drink garnishes. They bob uselessly in the glasses of the patrons, being downed at the same time the alcohol is chugged down. He witnesses several half-sized 'Yama-Yums' be pushed into an empty cask that then closes on them. Minutes later, beer pours from the barrel's tap as drunkards cheer.

Elsewhere, he sees himself made entirely from chocolate, but still animate, trying to dodge the grabby hands of patrons, and, inevitably failing, caught by an obnoxious looking teen. Given that chocolate has no internal organs, his chewing does nothing to give Tadashi peace of mind as to the choco-boy's fate.

All around the store, spectacles like this go on. A poster happily advertises milk, another cartoon mascot with his face throwing a peace sign as he melts in an udder. Some posters even claim that Yama-Yums can increase the size of… certain assets. Sometimes directly, if someone was desperate. Tadashi was fairly certain he didn't want to begin imagining what that means, though it doesn't ease his stomach when the poster feels the need to stress that public decency laws still apply to the buffet. Towards the front of the store, merchandise still bearing the likeness from before, from fans to bibs, even to underwear. He tries very hard to not wonder if inanimate transformation extends beyond food, with little success. 

They also have a lot of boxes for leftovers. A lot.

He wonders what kind of demon would take such an interest in him as to build such a special hell.

By the next opening of the door, he's resigned to ending his day in a stranger's stomach. He only watches it idly, to get a look at the men that enter, knowing each and any could be the man to eat him.

And then he realizes that he'd much rather be preyed upon by someone he doesn't know when he sees several familiar figures walk in.

Kuroo. Hinata. Bokuto. Akaashi. Lev.

Tsukki.

The volleyball players that occupied the 3rd gym during the training camp seemed to have come together once again.

Looking at their faces, he doesn't get his hopes up for a rescue mission.

Hinata, in particular, looks like he's actively fighting against drooling as he scans the room excitedly, a gleam in his eyes, and an itch in his legs as he struggles to keep from running indoors. Bokuto isn't any more composed, tugging Akaashi along to the dry tank they've dumped MiniYamas in. Akaashi isn't as perturbed as he could be; in fact, he seems distracted by hunger himself, eyeing a platter of rice balls. Lev didn't even pretend to practice restraint, immediately trying to order a half-sized Yama-Yum.

And Tsukki had been set on the dessert section as soon as it was in his sights. Tadashi supposed he was relieved that, at the very least, he wouldn't be eaten by his best friend. 

That left Kuroo. 

Kuroo who, having watched his friends scatter, turned his full attention onto the reason for his coming.

The seafood section.

Tadashi, at this point, was among one of the only few MerYamas left. There was a one in four chance that he'd be Kuroo's meal.

Is it any wonder he froze when the older boy leaned down to look at the tank, idle smile on his lips as he scanned to choose his quarry? 

Tadashi could only stare at him, knowing that his failure to move had already sealed his fate as Kuroo's eyes met his own. That smile turned into a smirk, but as he had seen before, it wasn't out of sadism. Just the satisfaction of having identified his dinner. As he licked his lips, Tadashi finally found the will to move, to escape, even knowing he'd lost his chance.

Kuroo had rolled up the sleeve of his jacket. As his hand hovered above the water of the tank, his eyes never left the mer he'd decided he wanted, even as he darted about the others, trying to confuse. If anything, these attempts both made him more obvious… and made Kuroo more enthused as his hand snapped down, catching the mer's tail perfectly. He watched it squirm a few seconds more, playing with his food. 

Tadashi would find, as he expected, that he could still breathe above water. It was little comfort as Kuroo planted a kiss bigger than his head and began walking to the same counter the older man from before had. The one by the kitchen. Tadashi's struggles on the way weren't worth acknowledging.

"Kuroo-kun," the chef acknowledged, and an exchange of pleasantries followed, as Tadashi lay panting from his vain struggles in Kuroo's grip. "'Suppose you'll be wanting the usual?"

"Of course," he answered, and Tadashi found himself dropped into a gloved embrace, "I'd never want it any other way."

And one of the first scenes he'd been traumatized by on his arrival was played out again. An eyedropper forced into his mouth, something foul spilling forth down his throat, his limbs going numb. 

He expects seaweed next.

Instead the chef carries him towards a grill.

It doesn't hurt. Maybe it's the drug he was given, or maybe it's just how this world works, but he only feels heat as he cooks. Unbearable heat, but heat without pain. Not even when the chef begins to salt him does it hurt. Turning him over to let him soak in juices and get him cooked on the other side, pressing the spatula onto him to press the heat further. And not once does Tadashi feel death draw near. Instead, hes lain almost gently on a white plate, alongside a lemon slice, and delivered onto a patient Kuroo.

Onto Kuroo, the main about to eat him. Digest him, Tadashi would presume, unless this is a nightmare after all. 

Tadashi reflects on how he could be alive after being cooked, or how cupcakes and sushi could be alive, on chocolate moving with no organs inside. He wishes he could use these things to assure him this was a dream. Instead he has to wonder if even digestion would kill him. 

Kuroo finds the others before Tadashi could even begin to cool, setting him down without a second look. Forgetting him, for just a moment, to banter.

So Tadashi watched as Lev strained himself carrying a platter with a Half-Size on it to the table. As Bokuto goaded Hinata into seeing if he could eat as many MiniYamas as his senpai, who'd already downed enough for their collective struggles to be seen through his shirt. Akaashi had taken plate full of the rice balls he'd been wanting. 

As Tadashi watches Tsukki lift a slice of shortcake to his mouth, he finds his reprieve over, lemon juice covering his form. He thinks he sees Tsukki's cake quiver as it begins to slip past his best friend's teeth, but Kuroo claims his full attention as the lemon slice runs dry. Kuroo has his full attention as he licks his lips, clicking the tips of his chopsticks together. As he uses them to grip the very tip of Tadashi's tail, and lift him one last time. 

Kuroo is careful not to let his limp arms catch on his lips as he lowers Tadashi, sealing around the mer as soon as his head slips past them. One of the last things he sees is Lev struggling to fit his mouth around the paralyzed Half-Size's head. Tadashi doesn't have time nor room to pity the fate in store for his other self, not as he's pulled in at a slow, steady pace by Kuroo's sucking, patiently taking the time to savor the boy's flavors and juices. As more and more of his body joins him in the maw, he's balled up inside the cheeks of the older boy, until finally, with a wet *fwip!*, his tail is completely trapped in with the rest of him, and only a moment's rest is afforded before Tadashi's world shifts again. 

Kuroo's tongue rolls under and over him as he's pushed and pulled from cheek to cheek, unable to so much as flinch. He feels moaning vibrate around him as teeth dig lightly into him for taste, and as he's rammed against the roof of the mouth.

From outside, Tsukki's voice, muffled as it us, calls out. "Can you stop acting like a porn star and just eat normally for once? We can do without you moaning like you're getting head." 

"Ishn't et jush ath gooh dhough?" Kuroo responds, trying to disturb him more. Tadashi spends the entire question with his face buried in the flesh of Kuroo's cheek. For Tadashi's suffering and Kuroo's provocation, all Tsukki gives him is a pulled face before he simply scowls and picks up a cupcake that somehow, despite lacking any human features, looks as though it wants to run away.

Kuroo snorts, before electing to give Tadashi one final lick… and send him on his way. His swallow is powerful, pulling Tadashi immediately into his throat, forcing him down and along, a trip that is objectively short, agonizingly long, and over far too quickly all at once. As he curls up in the chamber waiting for him, walls dark and unpleasantly slick, he can't think over the pounding of his heart, over the voice that keeps screaming at him that this it, the end, just someone's meal.

Outside, Kuroo burps into his fist. "'Scuse me."

Tadashi would do anything to at least be able to move now, however pointless it may be at this point, however little hope he has for being coughed up. Just to spare a little of his dignity as he digests, to go down fighting, or to even just give Kuroo a stomach ache as one last piece of petty revenge—not that the boy, almost a man, would see it so much as punishment for an evil deed rather than an unpleasant side effect of his meal.

On second thought, maybe being indigestion isn't the most glamorous way out. 

Regardless, he didn’t exactly have a choice. He could wish all he liked, but it wouldn’t get him out of here. It wouldn’t save the cake in Tsukki’s stomach, on it’s way to pad out the blond’s ass, or, if his other self was lucky enough to be spared that, his stomach or thighs. Wishing wouldn’t make the swollen mound Lev was rubbing any less humiliated as his new home complained of his stomach hurting. Wishing wouldn’t save the Mini-Yamas stepping on each other and forcing their other selves faces into the growing pool as they frantically tried to escape Hinata’s stomach, or their counterparts, already subdued and exhausted in Bokuto’s stomach, more experienced in breaking down Mini-Yamas, awaiting their fate as the walls begin to squeeze. Wishing wouldn’t spare the foods Akaashi was glutting himself on from the dubious privilege of being plush on his body. And wishing wouldn’t rescue him from walls grinding against him, and slime dripping over body and face both, eager to break him down into nutrients for Kuroo’s body to absorb and make a part of him. 

Tadashi remembers the inanimate ‘Yama-Yums’, how even a piece of cake could quiver at the threat of a trip through his best friend’s guts. He remembers the signs, implying that eating him and his fellows could enhance saucier parts of a patron’s body. And he prays, as he feels his skin and scales start to tingle, that death awaits him. That death awaits the Mini-Yamas in his friend’s stomachs, Bokuto robbing them of their air with one final belch, slapping his swollen gut, and Hinata the same in multiple small, hiccuped burps as he rubbed his squirming stomach. That death awaits the food that had been chewed by them, already being funneled into their trip to be converted into ass padding on the stoic boys. The version of himself turning to mush in Lev’s stomach as he pokes and prods the softening mound, amused as it squishes under his fingers and jiggles grossly when he pats it. 

When blackness creeps upon him, a little over an hour of soaking later, he thinks that maybe, finally, this sick reality has granted mercy on him.

He is wrong, twice over.

Part of him wakes again, feeling a prison of fabric against his form. He hears a zipper, descending. And he sees light as his prison recedes. And then his vision is dominated by a hand, brief glancess of Kuroo staring at a screen flashing as it moves. The hand holds him, and starts stroking as Tadashi goes stiff. Stroking turps into pumping, Tadashi’s new body growing harder and harder as arousal pools into him, becomes as much his as it is Kuroo’s. Not once does he look down at Tadashi—and why should he, with him being nothing more than a cock—until the very end, when he presses a tissue against Tadashi’s ‘face’, squeezes his eyes shut… and Tadashi feels an orgasm that, for a moment, makes him fear his mind wouldn’t survive it, throbbing and pulsing as Kuroo’s come pours out of what passes for his mouth now. 

Mentally shuddering, he realizes he can still taste, salt still dripping out of him as Kuroo pants, spent. 

Tadashi also comes to realize he’d much rather the taste of salt, when Kuroo gets up and the sight beyond the door he opens is a bathroom. 

Traumatized one final time for the night, Tadashi notes that the boxers pulled over him have yet another caricature of his face on them, smiling whilst a pair of lips frame his head. 

Cruelly, Tadashi hopes he has a roommate as Kuroo turns in for the night.

As for the other part of him, one might wonder which fate is kinder; waking up soulless, bound to another person’s cock in both this life and whatever comes after, or, having experienced digestion, waking in a tank once more to go through it all again, soul having retreated to another vessel, still just as likely to be eaten. A hand grabs him, belonging to a salaryman, sleeves rolled up, tie loose, and a bottle of beer in his other hand.

(This time, he learns there are worse places he could end up than a cock.) 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> And so Yamaguchi relives being eaten or absorbed or turned into clothing or whatever over and over again forever, leaving a consciousness behind each time his soul jumps to another vessel. Why? I dunno, it's a fucking vore fic. Should it make sense? Let's just say this reality is a god's stomach and he gets power from it's denizens humiliating Yama or something. 
> 
> If you like both Haikyuu!! and vore you are morally and legally obligated to contact me. 
> 
> If you're just here for the vore, go watch Haikyuu!! and then contact me. 
> 
> I need vore friends, dammit. 
> 
> You can find me on tumblr at tsukishima-tadashi, or twitter at @bottomyamaguchi. Neither is sfw, but if that bothers you, you shouldn't be reading this in the first place. I also have a listography, at https://listography.com/akuuni.
> 
> Additionally, I have a tumblr I made for writing, or more specifically, to take asks for so I can be a little less tight-lipped in my answers than I am on my main, bttmyama, though I'm a tad bit worried that it'll get marked as explicit sooner or later. Still, feel free to send asks there. Also, there's a very important message on my sidebar, that I cannot mention on Ao3 for Reasons.
> 
> Don't be shy!


End file.
